This Thing Called Love (13 page)

CHAPTER 13

“I’m on edge waiting for my boss to call to discuss the new schedule I proposed.” Olivia lifted her gaze to her two oldest and dearest friends, who sat across from her at the ancient orange Formica-topped table at the front of Pie in the Sky. She traced the circular grooves on her coffee mug then tapped it fretfully. Agitation knotted her stomach and the smells of diner food—burgers, fries, mashed potatoes and gravy—only made it worse. “And the house still smells like burnt plastic even though it’s been three days.”

Meg and Alex exchanged knowing glances. They weren’t buying her explanations for why she seemed to be in such a funk. Meg put down her tea and sat back in the old booth. “Just tell us what’s up with Brad. We know he’s what’s bothering you, so out with it already.”

Olivia opened her mouth to speak but thoughts of her pink bathrobe and the smoke alarm and Brad’s hands roving all over her body made her choke back the words.

“Sexual frustration, that’s my diagnosis. Am I right?” Alex watched her pointedly. Saw the moment when heat flooded Olivia’s cheeks, and she was all over it. “Bingo! The cure is to sleep with him already.”

The elderly couple in the booth across glanced over and frowned. Even Buzz, the owner, looked up from the grill behind the counter.

“Alex, will you shush?” Meg’s usual soft voice was edged with irritation. Olivia felt comfort in their banter, so familiar after all the times they’d spent in this very booth near the big plate-glass window that overlooked the square. In the late Friday afternoon sunshine, there was some commotion happening outside, with trucks and trailers crowding the street next to the grassy park.

Alex pointed an accusatory finger at Meg. “You’re the one who bet me five bucks they already did it.” Her gaze shifted to Olivia. “So why didn’t you? Sleep with him, that is.”

Olivia reached in the booth next to her to retuck the blanket Annabelle had just kicked off. It was a little chilly with the air conditioning. Annabelle found the corner of the blanket and began to suck on it.

“You’re the one who broke it up between us, as I recall,” Olivia said.

“That was when I thought he was using you. Before I saw all that smoking-hot combustion between you two. So what happened?”

“We almost did it. But Brad’s gone on business and I’ve had time to come to my senses. He’s made it clear he’s not looking for a long-term relationship. I have to think of what’s best for Annabelle.” The past few days had allowed her to reason this out. A fling was definitely not what was best.

No matter how desperately she wanted him.

And it would be a fling, with a man who might want her to stay but who feared commitment and raising another child. And let’s face it, she couldn’t give up the security of her job even if she could find freelance projects that might allow her to work remotely. Not as a single mother with a child to raise and put through college.

Yes, it was good the fire department had shown up. Good he was out of town. Because she didn’t want to start a dead-end romance. She’d gotten over him once, but it had taken years. She couldn’t put herself through that again.

If she expected sympathy to gush from her friends’ mouths, she didn’t get it.

Alex’s mug hit the Formica with a thud. “Olivia, what do you expect the man to do? You’re leaving for New York. Just like ten years ago. You can’t blame him for being gun-shy.”

No, she couldn’t. But he wanted his freedom and she had a one-month-old.

“Maybe you should talk with him. Have a heart-to-heart,” Meg said.

Yeah, right. Except every time they started that, they ended up peeling off each other’s clothes. Or arguing. Mostly both.

“But all that chemistry—it practically explodes,” Meg said.

“I saw how Brad looked at you at the picnic the other day,” Alex said. “Like you were dessert. A s’more. And he wanted some. More.”

As Alex chuckled at her own joke, Olivia shook her head. “There will always be this crazy hormone thing between us. But that doesn’t mean we have to act on it. That could get very messy.”

“Life is messy,” Alex said firmly. “And you’ve still got your pressed Sunday dress on with a clean hem.”

Alex’s words struck home. Her friend was accusing her of holding back on living her life just like Brad had.

Buzz approached with a fresh pot of coffee. Alex immediately held out her mug for a refill.

Buzz bent his stocky frame toward Annabelle and waggled his fingers. “Coochie coochie coo.” Annabelle kicked her feet like a bongo drummer in response. The blanket fell to the floor. “She’s one adorable baby. Anyone else want a topper?”

Olivia nodded. “Thanks, Buzz.” As he poured the coffee, she said, “You haven’t changed one bit.”

He patted his stomach under his white apron. “I think I put on a few sympathy pounds with Cheryl being pregnant.” He paused awkwardly. “I just want to say I admire you for what you’ve done, Olivia, coming back here from that big city job of yours . . .”

In the past week, so many townspeople had expressed their sympathy. That awkward stab of pain was back. Actually, it never really left, but this time Olivia decided to deal with it and place the focus on what really mattered: Annabelle. Trish would want that.

She flashed Buzz a big smile. “This baby is a wonder. Look what she does.” She leaned down to speak to the baby, and while she was at it, retrieve the blanket. “Let’s show everyone what you just learned, honey. Show them you’re the sweetest baby that ever lived.”

The baby flashed a gummy smile that showed off two of her chins. Then she stuck her foot in her mouth. Olivia gently pulled it out and looked around the table proudly. “That’s her latest accomplishment.”

“That’s pretty acrobatic,” Buzz said.

Meg
tsked
. “Buzz, she just smiled. Isn’t she
amazing
?”

So many times over the past few days, Olivia had wanted to run across the yard and drag Brad back to show him, forgetting he wasn’t there.

Alex took a peek. “Usually I don’t think babies are cute, but she’s adorable.”

“Smart, too,” Meg added.

Olivia frowned. “Alex, you couldn’t possibly think your own babies weren’t cute.”

“Oh, yes I could. Not a one was the least bit cute until they started sleeping through the night. Honestly, I was so sleep deprived, I don’t even remember what they looked like.”

Olivia smiled at her friends. What would she do without Alex’s snarkiness and Meg’s loyalty? Or the friendship that had cheered and comforted her through all kinds of tribulations? It was like she’d never left. She’d missed them, and it made her sad these times together would be ending soon.

Maybe Brad was right. In her scramble for success, her priorities had gotten pushed out of place. “I just wanted to tell you two how much I appreciate how you’ve been there for me. I’d never survive this without you and . . . well, I love you both so much.” She grasped their hands across the table.

“We love you, too, Olivia,” Meg said, squeezing her hand.

“And we want you to be happy,” Alex added.

“Okay, I love you all, too, but I’m going back to the kitchen.” Buzz fled the table as quickly as possible.

“We love you, too, Buzz,” Meg called as Buzz waved them off. Then she turned back to the table. “Olivia’s right. She’s going back to New York next week. And she’ll have to face Brad whenever she comes back to visit. That could be really awkward.”

“She’s already slept with him back in high school. This would be for old times’ sake.” Alex sipped her coffee. “You know, Olivia, I was always surprised you did that. Of all of us, you always went by the book. You studied, ate your veggies, and didn’t push your curfew. How on earth did you end up having sex with Brad?”

Easy answer. He was irresistible. “We were young and foolish. I’m not foolish anymore.” She placed a hand over her chest for emphasis. “I know in my heart it would be ridiculous to get involved now.” Olivia felt her heartbeat, strong and rebellious under her hand. It didn’t seem to care that she had a job and a life in New York and that Brad’s life was as entwined around Mirror Lake as ivy climbing bricks.

Meg, probably sensing her confusion, rested a hand on her arm. “I always thought you two would marry.”

Olivia blinked in surprise. Meg often based her own decisions on emotion and intuition. In Meg’s case, that meant she chose guys who were needy and intense, who required being taken care of.

“I don’t think Brad’s ever really gotten over you,” Meg said.

Olivia flicked her hand. “Oh, please.”

“Then how come he’s never found
the one
either?”

Had she ever felt that magic, that karma since? It was crazy to believe she’d found it the very first time she’d fallen in love with a man. “Brad doesn’t believe in the magic of love. He thinks marriage is all about responsibility and paying bills and screwing up your kids.”

“Logic never works,” Meg said. “It’s all about passion.”

“Meg, I swear. You talk the big talk but you do nothing to get Benjamin Rushford to notice you.”

Meg fidgeted with her spoon. “We live in a town the size of a dime. If he wanted me, he would have noticed me by now.”

“There’s nothing wrong with giving a man a little nudge, honey.” Alex sat back and crossed her arms. “That goes for both of you. Olivia, your time’s flying by. What are you going to do?”

“Be neighborly, be polite. I’ll be back in New York in a week.”

Alex narrowed her eyes, never being one for bullshit. “Last chance for a future with Brad.”

Anxiety churned the strong coffee in Olivia’s stomach. The puzzle pieces were locked in. She had to keep her job. He had to stay here, in the town he loved, where he was successful, popular, and happy. Changing anything would be like moving Sisyphus’s boulder.
Impossible.

Meg sighed. “I hate to see you go. You don’t come home enough.”

Olivia patted Meg’s hand. “You’ll just have to come to New York. We’ll have a girls’ weekend.”

Alex frowned. “That’s a little hard when you work seven days a week. So when will you hear back from that boss of yours?”

“Any time now. If I can just scale back a bit, I just might be able to do this. I’ve been Skyping with nanny candidates and have it narrowed down to two. And I was hoping to maybe work Fridays from home.”

Olivia glanced down at the baby. Annabelle had not only kicked the blanket off but also both socks and somehow had one in her mouth. Olivia pulled the sock from her mouth and kissed her foot on the way down to pick up the other stuff.

“Speaking of Brad,” Meg said, pointing out the window. “There he is.”

Olivia jerked her eyes across the street. The trucks had pulled away, exposing the walkways and benches and white gazebo with curlicue trim, now draped with garlands of white flowers.

“They must be setting up for a wedding,” Alex said.

“Nope,” Meg said. “Prom tonight.”

But the square was only a distraction. Brad stood in the front yard of the old red brick Victorian with a woman in a business suit, talking animatedly and pointing up at the roof.

Ancient, buried feelings rushed back as Olivia stared at the regal Queen Anne with its sprawling covered porch and a majestic turret three stories high. She wasn’t sure if it was the surprise, the shock, or the intense memories of their time together in that house, but seeing Brad standing there for the first time in all these years took her breath away.

Brad and the woman walked to the front door. She bent to dial a number into a lockbox and the door opened.

“That’s Jeannie Marshall,” Alex said.

“The realtor,” Olivia said. An old classmate of her father’s, Jeannie had gone out of her way to be kind after Olivia’s mother left, occasionally dropping off meals and always trying to convince her dad to move to a new house, one with a view of the lake where he loved to fish.

“Not just a realtor—the top regional seller,” Meg said. “Specializes in old, charming homes. Maybe Brad is looking to buy it?”

Olivia knew Brad’s house next door to her was temporary, that he could afford one twenty times the size of the tiny bungalow. He could buy any house on earth—so why this one?

As she watched, a woman in a tight black skirt and high heels ran up the walkway and kissed Brad on the cheek. Olivia could tell from the sway of her hips and the flip of her black silky hair just who it was.

“Who’s that other woman?” Meg asked. “Not a realtor, that’s for sure.”

“It’s that reporter from
Live at Five
,” Alex said, eyes bugging out. “What’s her name again?”

“Erika Peters.” Olivia blinked hard. Sexy Erika. Fun-loving, no-strings-attached Erika. The perfect woman to keep him company while he got away from all the complications that lived next door to him now.

Just what he said he wanted to do. Be carefree.

He guided Erika forward into the house with an arm on her back, the fire-engine-red door closing behind them.

Olivia heard the mental slam in her brain. How could he do it? Almost make love to her but then move so quickly to another woman?

Irritation smoldered in her chest like a newly crushed cigarette. A careful voice warned her she was being unreasonable. That her anger was out of proportion because the emotional and physical exhaustion of the past few weeks made her feel like she was having PMS on steroids.

Olivia turned to her friends, who sat wearing concerned looks. “I need to ask a favor. Could . . . you watch Annabelle for a few minutes?”

Did she just ask that out loud? Oh, God, what was she thinking?

Alex and Meg glanced at each other in that worried way only best friends can, until Alex finally spoke. “Olivia, are you sure you know—”

She stood up. “I’m rational, yes. I know what I’m doing.”

Not really
, but she was going to do it anyway.

Meg rushed to her side and gently tugged her sleeve. “Honey, maybe you shouldn’t—”

“Look, a few minutes ago you both were warning me not to pass up my chance with Brad.”

“That was before you were mad as hell,” Alex pointed out.

She wasn’t. Only her limbs quaked and black spots danced in front of her vision, and she ground her jaw so tight it might crack. A primordial need possessed her to get to him and see for herself what the hell was going on over there. Just when she thought she’d discovered the Brad she used to know, he was confirming all the womanizing, footloose, fancy-free stereotypes about him.